


Our Souls Are All We Own

by Janie94



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Forbidden Love, M/M, Mates, Rituals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 02:26:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19264081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janie94/pseuds/Janie94
Summary: The Sun Tribe and the Night Tribe have decided on a temporary peace arrangement.But this peace is threatened when two warriors of different tribes fall in love with each other.





	Our Souls Are All We Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Always and Forever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657916) by [Janie94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janie94/pseuds/Janie94). 



> My dearest Blue_Night,
> 
> as you know I was sick the past week and 'unfortunately' not being allowed to do anything for such a long time always gives me ideas that I need to write down. I took some inspiration from your story 'Black Lord' and some from my own two tribes universes and hope you will like this world that I created. I am aware that the mythology here would be enough for a long WIP but I have way too many of them going on already and decided to only write a short story this time.

 

 

**Our Souls Are All We Own**

 

**Chapter 1**

 

 

The night was dark and cold, making Thomas shiver despite the bonfire blazing warmly just a few feet away. Right beside him stood his chief Manuel, waiting for their enemies to finally arrive. Despite the tense situation Manuel seemed as calm as always, his entire posture relaxed and patient. The stripes and symbols painted on his face had long dried in the cold wind, the bonfire almost burnt down from the long hours of waiting. Thomas pulled the coat tighter over his shoulders to keep out the cold, feeling naked and vulnerable without his battle armor.

“Are you sure that they will come?” he asked his chief with doubt in his voice.

Manuel nodded. “Yes, Thomas. They take their time to mock us and because they know the deeper the night, the stronger they are. But they will come.”

Thomas gave an annoyed snort in response. The Sun Tribe and the Night Tribe had fought each other longer than their stories dated back and it was doubtful that the peace meeting Manuel had convened tonight would make any difference.

Thomas didn’t feel comfortable to invite their enemies into their village in the middle of the night but it would give them the advantage of fighting on their own territory. And the Sun Stone that was located in the middle of the village and illuminating the night with its orange-golden light was giving them the strength to survive in the darkness of the night.

The Sun Stone had been a farewell gift to their tribe by their God Sól, giving them the strength to survive without him once he had left this world to unleash his true powers. It enabled them to endure the night but it was so powerful that every human who had dared to touch it had burned on the spot. Sól had given the stone to them and in return the Sun Tribe would defend this chosen land until the end of time.

It was said that the Goddess Luna had given the Night Tribe a stone as well, called the Moon Stone. Like all the other warriors of their tribe Thomas had never seen it before but it was said to be black as the night itself, illuminating a black and silver light. Thomas had no idea how light could be black because the color was usually associated with darkness but it was a divine gift so he better not insult the gods. Luna might be the Goddess protecting the Night Tribe but Thomas had been raised to respect them all and he could imagine that the Moon Stone must be just as beautiful as their Sun Stone – and just as dangerous. The few foolish humans who had dared to touch it were said to have turned to ice.

Thomas’ thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a horn. Only seconds later the chief of the Night Tribe came into view.

He was smaller than both Manuel and Thomas and of slim but strong build. There was elegance in his movements, something many people of this tribe seemed to have in common. Thomas had only ever seen him in full battle armor and he took in the delicate features of his face, surprised to see that the man had hair with a color that was only a shade or two brighter than the one of the Sun Stone.

Marco was flanked by his two Arma – his ‘weapons’ - who were his chosen successors should he die. A chief’s Arma were two men, one Sword and one Shield who would fight for him and protect him. When Thomas had been born, their shaman Miroslav had immediately declared him a Sword. He and Mats were Manuel’s Arma and they were close friends. Thomas couldn’t imagine having to fight him for leadership if Manuel ever left them.

Manuel was born a Shield – according to Miroslav a stronger one than he had ever seen before – and this meant that once he had token over their tribe, the Night Tribe had been the one do declare the war with a Sword as their Chief. A time of peace was only possible when two Shields were chiefs of the tribes which happened only rarely.

The man to Marco’s left was slightly smaller than his chief and a few years older. His hair was darker than Marco’s but still considered dark blonde and Thomas had to wonder again why warriors of the Night Tribe had hair of Sól’s color. However he recognized those eyes from the battle field, so this must be Kuba.

The man to Marco’s right however looked completely different and Thomas tensed in response to his earth-shattering beauty. He was about Marco’s height, maybe slightly taller, but there all similarities ended. He had narrow hips but a broad chest, the symbols painted on his naked torso doing a poor job of hiding his well-built abs. His high cheekbones gave him an aristocratic look but Thomas could barely appreciate it over the piercing blue eyes meeting his.

Robert.

Thomas had fought him only once, his only fight he had ever lost and part of him was still surprised why this man had decided to spare him, taking on Mats next instead of delivering the killing strike. Thomas would always remember these eyes. The eyes of Luna’s punishment, the color of deadly ice. Robert was the only one among the Night Warriors with black hair.

Against his will Thomas couldn’t help but stare. Robert was beautiful and dangerous in a way he had never seen before, everyone else paling in comparison. He stepped forward and Thomas belatedly realized that Robert was the only man in the Night Tribe to come with naked, meaning that he was Marco’s chosen consort.

The man that the Night Tribe would give to them as a peace gift for three nights.

Thomas let out a relieved breath. He only wore the long coat, so that he could have exposed himself should Manuel have to give him over to Marco’s care but this wouldn’t be necessary now as Robert was already offering himself.

Manuel stepped forward and Marco mirrored him, the two chiefs meeting in the middle. Manuel put his right hand onto the younger one’s left shoulder.

“I’m glad you came tonight, Sword of Luna.”

Marco smiled but his eyes were still sharp and alert as he gripped Manuel’s shoulder as well. “It is an honor, Shield of Sól. We have never met each other in peace, so I could not possibly decline your invitation.” He turned his head towards Robert, beckoning him to step forward before he turned back towards Manuel. “You were the one extending the invitation, so it seemed only fair of me to be the one with the peace gift.”

Manuel’s eyes widened when he saw the black color adorning Robert’s chest, the shape of a handprint painted onto his skin. An unmistakable symbol.

He turned towards Marco in bewilderment. “You offer me your consort?”

“My betrothed,” Marco corrected him with a proud smile. “We have not given ourselves over to the passion of Luna yet. But he is foremost the Sword of his chief and I figured it a fitting gift for a peace treaty to hand over my sword to you which leaves me only with my Shield.” He glanced over towards Kuba.

Manuel let go of him to approach Robert, curiosity written over his face as he considered the Night Tribe’s strongest warrior. “And you are willing to do this for Marco? You know what it entails.”

Robert nodded without hesitation. “Yes. My body belongs to Marco – as my chief and my betrothed. I will do as he pleases.”

Manuel bowed his head in respect. “You are an honorable man, Robert. Then I will not drag this out. Thomas?”

Thomas hid his flinch and he stepped towards Robert. Miroslav joined him and offered the bowl with thick yellow color to him and slowly Thomas dipped two fingers into it and raised them towards the other man’s chest. It felt too intimate having to touch the warrior’s bare skin, especially when he was promised to another and Thomas couldn’t help raising his gaze to Robert’s eyes. 

To his surprise the expression in them was not as cold and confident as he had imagined. Instead there was a hint of warmth and insecurity as though Robert was just a thrown off by the intimacy as he was.

Thomas hovered with his hand in mid-air, realizing that he _wanted_ to touch the man in front of him. But for entirely the wrong reasons. Robert just stared back at him, something pleading in the way he met Thomas’ gaze. Several seconds filled with tension passed.

“Thomas!” Manuel repeated with an unusual hint of warning in his voice.

Thomas jerked back to attention and he finally placed his fingers on Robert’s chest and started to draw the symbol of the Sun Tribe. He could hear Robert inhaling, so he must feel the tingling between them as well.  

He was glad when Miroslav spoke, drawing the attention of the other people present. “The blessing of Sól may come over you, Sword of Luna. Your blood will paint the moon red and if our Gods deem you worthy, you may live.”

Thomas watched Robert’s reaction closely but there was no fear in the latter’s eyes, only determination. Thomas looked over to Marco and indeed there was worry somewhere underneath all his confidence.

Up to now there had only been eight cases of such rituals. Seven of the men offering themselves had died in the process. Robert might be the strongest warrior of the Night Tribe but this didn’t mean that the Gods deemed his soul just as strong.

Thomas finished painting the symbol with a last bow reaching from one collarbone to the other and Miroslav spoke again. “It is time now, Sword of Luna. You may choose the one to wield the knife.”

Thomas fully expected Robert to choose someone from his own tribe. This was a matter of deep trust and surely there were only one or two people Robert would trust with his life. Marco probably, maybe even Kuba.

So Thomas was utterly unprepared for Robert’s next words. “I choose Thomas.”

Shocked murmuring went through the crowd and Manuel and Mats looked at each other in disbelief. Hurt flashed over Marco’s face but he was quick to mask it.

Miroslav handed the ritual knife to Thomas, squeezing his arm as he whispered. “You can do this, I know that.”

Thomas couldn’t really share his sentiment but he took the knife with one hand while he offered the other to the warrior in front of him. Robert took it and allowed Thomas to lead him into the lake. When the water wat at the same level as their hips, they reached the stone where the ritual would take place and Robert pulled himself onto it, lying down on his back and waiting silently.

They were out of earshot now and Thomas couldn’t help asking. “Why did you choose me? I’m your enemy, I could kill you. I probably will.”

“Probably,” Robert agreed quietly. “But I could have killed you on the battlefield and decided to spare you. Maybe the Gods will repay your debt and spare my life now.”

Despite his deep faith in Sól, Thomas wasn’t convinced. He placed his palm onto Robert’s chest to hold him down and grabbed the knife tighter but he had to ask something else. “I have been wondering about it for months. Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?”

Robert regarded him silently for a moment before he frowned. “I ask myself the same thing every day. I just couldn’t do it, I don’t know why. I saw you lying on the ground, blood leaking from underneath your armor and I couldn’t strike you down even though I knew in that moment that it might bring us the victory. It was as though Luna herself had gripped my arm to stop me.”

Thomas frowned. “Why would Luna want to protect me?”

“I don’t know. She can see the future, so maybe you still have a role to play. Maybe Fate has spun a special cord for you.” Suddenly he smiled and Thomas’ insides curled at the warmth flooding him. “Maybe Luna knew that you would be the one to kill me.”

Thomas swallowed hard. “I pray to Sól that you won’t die. Then my debt will be repaid.”

Robert nodded. “So be it. And if I die, then I will wait for you in Valhalla. There we will finish our fight and if you beat me, you will be free.”

Thomas felt comforted by the thought and he began to chant a prayer to Sól as he finally raised his knife towards the moon. Robert’s bright blue eyes were holding his own even when Thomas drove the blade down.

Robert’s body jerked at the pain and he couldn’t suppress a raw scream that echoed over the lake. Even without averting his gaze from Robert, Thomas could feel Marco’s intense gaze on him and he had no doubt that once the next war would come – and it would come sooner rather than later - Marco would personally kill him if Robert died at Thomas’ hands.

He had driven the knife into Robert’s stomach to the hilt, feeling warm blood gushing out of the wound. He raised his face to look at the moon the same moment Robert did. The full moon seemed to glow brighter before a small vail of red started to creep in from the right side.

At the shore Manuel raised his voice for both tribes to hear. “The blood moon is rising.”

Thomas closed his eyes to gather himself then he pulled the knife out, drawing a pained gasp from Robert. “Gods, I’m so sorry!” Then he drove the knife down again, this time piercing Robert’s upper arm. The man’s scream was louder this time and when Thomas looked up to see the veil of red wandering a bit more to the left, his vision was blurred with unshed tears. He pulled again, then he aimed for Robert’s other arm.

This time when he pulled the knife out, he dared to look over at Marco. Even from this distance he could make out the pain in the chief’s face. His body had gone rigid, his hands tightly balled to fists as he tried to keep himself in control and not interrupt the ritual. Manuel had reached out to stroke Marco’s back in comfort and the younger one didn’t even shake him off for the touch.

Thomas forced himself to look back down at Robert. Luna was in transition – one half the silvery glow of the full moon, the other half the crimson blood moon. The light of both halves was weaker than before but Robert’s eyes were still sparkling in the dark, his pupils dilated as he tried to fight against the overwhelming pain.

“G-go on!” he demanded through gritted teeth and Thomas hated himself as he drove the knife down once again, piercing Robert’s left thigh.

Robert managed to suppress his cry of pain but he jerked violently and his eyes had filled with tears. Thomas wasn’t allowed to actually touch the chosen one but he couldn’t stand it any longer and he moved his body to block the crowd’s view before he gripped Robert’s hand and lowered his voice. “You almost made it, just one more.”

Robert tightened his fingers around Thomas’ hand as though he wanted to draw strength from him and Thomas chanced a quick look at the only man close enough to still see what was going on. But Miroslav didn’t comment on their entangled hands as he quietly continued his prayers.

Thomas squeezed Robert’s hand before he drove the knife down for the last time to pierce Robert’s other arm. Robert failed to choke back a pained whimper but he managed to stay in this position even with all his blood trickling down the stone, waiting for Thomas to finish the ritual.

Thomas placed the edge of the knife onto Robert’s chest and broke the skin, drawing the symbols of both tribes onto it and watching anxiously as the blood pooling from the wounds he had inflicted drowned out the handprint Robert’s mate had painted onto him. Robert was already so far gone that he didn’t even flinch this time.

“Please,” Thomas begged, not sure whether he was speaking to Robert or the Gods. “Don’t die on me.”

Miroslav stepped closer and put a hand onto Thomas’ shoulder. “You need to let him go now. He needs to make it through this night on his own.”

Thomas obeyed reluctantly, dropping his hand back to his side. For a terrifying moment he thought Robert wasn’t breathing any longer and that Thomas had killed the most beautiful Sword of Luna who had once spared his life. It shouldn’t matter to him, Robert’s survival wasn’t important for the ritual and this man belonged to their enemies. But Thomas couldn’t be that heartless. Robert was a loyal servant of Luna and he deserved to live.

Just as he thought this, Robert’s chest rose and his eyes fluttered open though he was too weak to focus. Thomas let out the breath he had been holding and he leaned forward to bury his face against Robert’s side, not caring in the least about the blood now sticking to his hair.

Miroslav turned towards the waiting crowd and announced. “The ritual is done.” The warriors of both tribes roared but the chief of the Moon Tribe still stood rigid, his face ashen. Miroslav smiled softly at him. “And your future mate is alive.”

Marco closed his eyes and his whole body relaxed.

Miroslav leaned towards Thomas, gently coaxing him to stand up. “Robert needs to be close to the Sun Stone. He won’t survive the night otherwise.”

Thomas frowned. “But he belongs to the Night Tribe. The Sun Stone will kill him the moment he touches it.”

“I didn’t say Robert should touch it, I only said he should be near it. Night Warrior or not, this stone still contains the power of a God. Robert has not only endured the ritual and given himself over to the will of the Gods without hesitation, he also survived it. Sól will not let him die tonight.”

Thomas nodded and carefully he pushed his arms underneath Robert’s body to pull him up. Robert’s head lolled against his chest but somehow he was still conscious. His eyes roamed over Thomas’ face and he tried to smile. “Thank you, Sword of Sól.” Then his eyes fell shut and he went limp.

Thomas stared at him for a moment longer, wondering why this man was thanking him. Robert had spared his life and now Thomas had almost killed him.

Thomas pulled Robert’s naked and blood-soaked form tighter against his own chest as he made his way back to the shore. The crowd instantly parted for him, only Kuba came closer to take Robert from him. It was stupid, Kuba was much closer to Robert than Thomas would ever be but Thomas couldn’t help snarling warningly at the blond.

He almost expected this to cause a fight but Kuba only raised his hands in surrender and stepped back, an unreadable grin on his face as though he knew something that Thomas didn’t.

The young warrior dismissed the thought, all his attention on the man in his arms as he carried Robert over into the village, gently putting him down on a cot in Manuel’s home which was closest to the Sun Stone. Thomas should leave, he knew that but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he stroked Robert’s face tenderly, savoring the moment before he reached for the washcloth to clean his wounds.

“I don’t know why Fate has entwined our paths. But they never do anything without a reason, so I believe there is a deeper meaning to it all.” He smiled. “You won’t die tonight, my beautiful Sword of Luna, I won’t let you. Even if I have to fight Sól, Luna and Fate to ensure it.”

With that promise, Thomas leaned down to place a kiss on Robert’s forehead before he started to clean the wounds he had inflicted.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, please leave feedback for me.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> 1\. I know that the counterpart for Sól is Máni but I wanted a male god and female goddess, so it had to be Luna. Besides I always wanted to write a story with that name.
> 
> 2\. I didn't tag Leweus because unlike most of my stories, this won't end with a three people relationship and I didn't want to give anyone any false hope. This story is pure Müllendowski.


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